Almost immediately after his first appearance in comic books in June 1938, Superman began to be adapted to other media. The subsequent decades have brought even more adaptations of the Man of Steel, his friends, family, and enemies in film, television, comic strip, radio, novels, video games, and even a musical. The rapid adaptation of the Man of Steel occurred before the character and storyworld were fully developed on the comic book page, allowing the adaptations an unprecedented level of freedom and adaptability. The essays in this collection provide specific insight into the practice of adapting Superman from comic books to other media and cultural contexts through a variety of methods, including social, economic, and political contexts. Authors touch on subjects such as the different international receptions to the characters, the evolution of both Clark Kent's character and Superman's powers, the importance of the radio, how the adaptations interact with issues such as racism and Cold War paranoia, and the role of fan fiction in the franchise. By applying a wide range of critical approaches to adaption and Superman, this collection offers new insights into our popular entertainment and our cultural history.

Detecting the South in Fiction, Film, & Television, edited by Deborah E. Barker and Theresa Starkey, examines the often-overlooked and undervalued impact of the U.S. South on the origins and development of the detective genre and film noir. This wide-ranging collection engages with ongoing discussions about genre, gender, social justice, critical race theory, popular culture, cinema, and mass media. Focusing on the South, these essays uncover three frequently interrelated themes: the acknowledgment of race as it relates to slavery, segregation, and discrimination; the role of land as a source of income, an ecologically threatened space, or a place of seclusion; and the continued presence of the southern gothic in recurring elements such as dilapidated plantation houses, swamps, family secrets, and the occult. Twenty-two critical essays probe how southern detective narratives intersect with popular genre forms such as neo-noir, hard-boiled fiction, the dark thriller, suburban noir, amateur sleuths, journalist detectives, and television police procedurals. Alongside essays by scholars, Detecting the South in Fiction, Film, and Television presents pieces by authors of detective and crime fiction, including Megan Abbott and Ace Atkins, who address the extent to which the South and its artistic traditions influenced their own works. By considering the diversity of authors and characters associated with the genre, this accessible collection provides an overdue examination of the historical, political, and aesthetic contexts out of which the southern detective narrative emerged and continues to evolve.

Australians have become increasingly visible outside of the country as speakers and actors in radio and television, their media moguls have frequently bought up foreign companies, and people around the world have been able to enjoy such Australian productions as The Flying Doctors, Neighbours, and Kath and Kim. The origins, early development, and later adaptations of radio and television show how Australia has gone from being a minor and rather parochial player to being a significant part of the international scene. The A to Z of Australian Radio and Television provides essential facts and information concerning the Australian radio and television industry. This is accomplished through the use of a chronology, an introductory essay, a bibliography, and hundreds of cross-referenced dictionary entries on directors, producers, writers, actors, television and radio series, and television and radio stations.

Eleanor Roosevelt recognized the power of film and television, especially as educational tools to reach young people. She hosted three political talk shows in the 1950s and early 1960s, often appearing in guest spots to promote the United Nations, Democratic candidates, and progressive issues with Ed Sullivan, Bob Hope, Frank Sinatra, Mike Wallace, and Edward R. Murrow. In the 1930s and '40s, fan magazines such as Photoplay and Modern Screen published her opinions on the movies, and she boldly appeared in an interventionist prologue to the 1940 anti-Nazi film Pastor Hall. During World War II, she contributed to civil defense films and became a staple joke in Hollywood comedies. She also negotiated postwar representations of FDR on the big screen, culminating in 1960's Sunrise at Campobello, which portrayed her as the perfect wife. This book is the first to address Eleanor Roosevelt's moving image record and her relationship to film and television in the three decades from the 1932 presidential campaign to her death in 1962.

Long dismissed as ciphers, sycophants and "Stepford Wives," women characters of primetime television during the 1950s through the 1980s are overdue for this careful reassessment. From smart, savvy wives and resilient mothers (including the much-maligned June Cleaver and Donna Reed) to talented working women (long before the debut of "Mary Tyler Moore") to crimebusters and even criminals, American women on television emerge as a diverse, empowered, individualistic, and capable lot, highly worthy of emulation and appreciation.

The South has a remarkable record of producing more than its share of talented writers. Names like Faulkner, O'Connor, Wolfe, Warren, Welty, readily come to mind. Less noticed, however, is the region's equally distinguished contribution in the field of journalism. Among national broadcasters, editors and writers who started in the South are Tom Wicker, Walter Cronkite, David Brinkley, Clifton Daniel, Willie Morris, Robert Sherrill, Nelson Benton, Charles Kuralt, Larry King, Marshall Frady, Frank McGee. Why has the South produced so many creative journalists — and why would so many go North? We can't be sure. But a couple of thoughts come to mind. First, Southerners do seem to have a certain romance with the written and spoken word. There is a relish for sounds, unique expressions, and the embellished story. Reporting— like conversation — has always demanded more than the exchange of a few facts, and many of our brethran have been only too willing to turn their preoccupation with language and penchant for irrelevant detail into successful careers.

When Ozzie Nelson died in 1975, he was no longer a household name. For a guy who had created the longest-running TV sitcom in history, invented the rock video, and fronted one of the most successful big bands of the 1930s, it's baffling that Nelson has faded so far from American media memory. Larger than life offscreen--an attorney, college football star, cartoonist, songwriter, major band leader--Ozzie created a smaller-than-life TV persona, the bumbling average Dad who became known to the rock generation (which included his teen idol son Rick Nelson) as the essence of blandness. But America also saw Ozzie as their iconic Dad: not a "father knows best," since his pontifications usually proved flawed by the end of each episode, but the father who tried his best. This book is the only full-length biography of Ozzie Nelson since he published his memoirs in 1973. It treats the big band and early TV icon with affection and hints that American pop culture may owe more to Ozzie than is generally acknowledged.